


Of brothers and...did you just say best friends?

by dreamerbydawn



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Basically Carl being adorable, Canon Compliant, Carl just thinks Ian and Mickey are best friends, M/M, Set probably in season 3, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbydawn/pseuds/dreamerbydawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Carl finds himself on the receiving end of Ian's silent treatment for the first time, he surprisingly enough, turns to Mickey Milkovich for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of brothers and...did you just say best friends?

Carl Gallagher was in trouble. 

Now that statement on it’s own was not in any way surprising; Gallaghers in general always fucked shit up and Carl especially clung on to that family trait like a prized possession. 

The reason the trouble he was in now bothered him more than the usual shit, was because this particular kind was rare for him. 

This wasn’t Debbie shrieking at him for messing with her things or Lip shouting at him about how he shouldn’t cause trouble at school that he didn’t know to get himself out of and it wasn’t Fiona telling him off for whatever. He was used to all that. 

No, this was Ian. 

Ian, who was usually cool with mostly everything. His tolerance levels for bullshit was higher than the rest of the Gallagher’s combined and his patience deserved some sort of award. 

And Ian never judged. No matter what Carl did or what questions he asked his brother, the redhead gave unruffled answers and stayed calm. 

This time though, Ian had definitely gotten pissed. He’d glared once, fisted his hands like he wanted to maybe throw a punch, but then stormed off without another word. 

Actually, he hadn’t said a word in the week since and just looked at Carl coldly when he tried to get in his way, making his words die before they even formed. 

He’d tried to get some advice on the situation then, but Lip had been entirely unhelpful. Actually his oldest brother looked pleased, said something about finally being in his shoes and to just hang in there until the worst was over. 

So that meant Carl had to resort to practically stalking Ian at every given chance, simply waiting for the right moment to present itself. 

It still hadn’t.

But from his observations, he’d noticed that there was one person who could make Ian loosen up entirely. He’d seen the easy smiles and constant good mood his brother was in around Mickey Milkovich. 

So now Carl had a plan B. 

*  
Mickey was walking back home, the store had just been closed for the day and he was completely fucked out, slightly warm with the beer in his system - it was the beer not Gallagher, shut the fuck up - and was breathing smoke in and out. 

This was as good as a day in the life of a Milkovich got. Then came the sound of company joining his lonely walk, light footsteps on cement hardly a block behind him. 

“The fuck you still doing here Gallagher?” he asked, slightly on guard but still relatively relaxed. 

“Wanted to talk to you” The voice was new and had Mickey whirling around instantly. 

He had to frown at the kid for a moment, but he recognised him to be a Gallagher alright. Just the wrong one. 

“What the fuck for?” He sounded surprised even to his own ears. 

“Need your help” The smaller Gallagher informed, looking Mickey right in the eye and not at all seeming intimidated by him. 

Mickey couldn’t hold back a snort. Whoever this kid needed beaten up was probably pint sized too and he hardly doubted it was worth Milkovich time. Apart from what was probably a lousy target, he already knew how firecrotch would take this.

“Fuck off kid” He said instead, ready to turn away when the smaller boy frowned. 

“But it’s important” the kid insisted, and yeah, no one came to a Milkovich unless they’d run out of options. 

“If it’s that important, maybe your brothers will help. I ain’t gonna” Mickey says firmly.

Besides didn’t Gallaghers take care of their own or some shit? Ian would definitely have no problem in a fight and Lip was too dumb to turn one down. And they wouldn’t even need to be paid to handle the kid’s problem. How dumb was he coming to him for that anyway?

“The problem is my brother” Came the unexpected answer and now Mickey was raising an interested eyebrow. 

Was the kid seriously considering getting his brother beat up? Couldn’t be firecrotch, annoying as that shithead could be, he couldn’t think of anything he would do to piss his siblings off to the point they’d want him beaten up. 

Lip though, he’d seen him piss Ian off to the point of a fight several times. And while Ian handled those himself, Mickey wouldn’t have minded doing it for him. Yeah, had to be Lip.

“Which one?” He asked, stalling in an attempt to figure out how badly he wanted to fuck Lip Gallagher up and whether he was getting in the middle of the three brothers - he already knew the redhead wouldn’t stay out of it, nosy fucker never knew to mind his own business. 

“Ian” 

Mickey had been so distracted in his own head, it took a few seconds for the answer to actually register. When it did, he blinked down at the kid, not quite believing his ears. 

“What the fuck man?” He questioned dubiously before he could stop himself and the kid simply shrugged. 

The two of them stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. 

“So will you help?” came the next question. 

“Fuck no” Mickey shot back, the response once again involuntary. 

“Why not? You are friends” The kid sounded confused now and honestly so was the older boy. 

He was shocked too, he had never considered firecrotch a friend and was surprised anyone would think that. But he also did realise the ginger was the closest thing to a friend that he had. And if that were true, why the fuck would the kid expect him to beat up his friend? 

“The fuck’s the matter with you kid?” He demanded of the smaller Gallagher, but like his brother, he seemed to take that as an invitation to talk.

“Well, Ian’s pissed and hasn’t talked to me in a week” The smaller boy began to explain. 

Now that Mickey thought about it, yeah, the redhead had sulked about his kid brother for a bit, something about Frank and lines being crossed. 

“I asked Lip but he didn’t say much and I don’t know anyone else Ian is close to. But I really need him to talk to me again, so you need to help” 

Mickey blinked. That didn’t sound like the kid wanted firecrotch beat up at all. And what the fuck did he mean when he said they were close? What did he know? 

“Who the fuck said we’re close huh?” He asked, shifting to defensiveness instantly. 

“I saw you” the words rang so loudly in Mickey’s ear that he almost did not pay attention to the rest of the sentence. 

“He always hangs out with you and you make him happy.”

Mickey was back to staring dumbly at the kid and demanding a weak “What?”

“He’s always in a good mood when he’s with you” 

Hearing Ian was close to him and felt good with him along with the words ‘you make him happy’ were all affecting him. And the Milkovich could feel strange shit happening in his stomach, it felt all gooey and his skin was getting prickly with goosebumps.

“You think we’re like best friends or some shit?” Mickey asks hesitantly, the kid didn’t know they fucked from what he could tell.. 

“Aren’t you?” Smaller Gallagher questions, now sounding more confused and maybe frustrated. 

Yeah, there goes his guts swooping around inside him and his heart is beating faster. Were they? Shit, he doesn’t know. 

“What the fuck ever kid. What do you want from me anyway?” He grumbles, all the internal activity going on in his body taking a toll on his mood. 

“I don’t know. Tell me how to make Ian talk to me”

*

Ian walked back into the bedroom with only his towel slung around his waist and hair still dripping wet. He’d had another good day with Mickey and had only just reluctantly washed the other boy’s scent off of him. He might like smelling like the other boy but his sister would kill him if he sat at dinner reeking of sex. 

He knew most of his family was already downstairs, setting up dinner and that he was late, so he was a little taken aback when he noticed Carl sitting on his bed. 

It took a little effort to wipe the smile off his face, having to conjure up his younger brother’s careless words from last week to remind himself why he was hurt in the first place. 

“You fucking kidding me with this shit firecrotch?” Carl says bluntly, Ian almost dropping his towel in shock. 

“Wh - what?” He asks, forgetting to keep his silence towards his brother. 

Carl’s face lights up instantly and Ian would feel a little guilty at having been mad at him if he could bring himself to get over what he’d just heard. 

“You’re being a fucking girl” His brother continues, almost as if reciting something and Ian is blinking rapidly at him, not managing to be offended just yet.

“Get the fuck over it asshole, shit’s getting old” The younger boy tries, when Ian doesn’t say anything for a while and whatever recovery he managed, Ian loses it again at hearing the words. 

There was absolutely no way his brother wasn’t quoting Mickey word for word and while he had no idea how or even why, this was like hearing the Milkovich through his brother and it was just bizarre.

“Carl, what the fuck is going on?” Ian finds himself asking “Why are you talking to me like Mickey?”

“I wanted you to talk to me again but I didn’t know what to say, so I asked Mickey. And he didn’t know what I should say. I asked him what he would say instead and I didn’t think it would work, but you’re talking” 

Ian stares at Carl grinning at him, clearly happy with his achievement. But he is still stuck on the part where Mickey actually fucking talked to his little brother about him instead of asking him to fuck off.

“Are you still angry with me?” Carl checks, yanking Ian out of his own head. 

Ian sighs then, trying to push the blue eyed boy from his mind and making an effort to focus on his brother. 

“I wasn’t angry, I was hurt” He concedes and watches the kid’s face fall. 

“I have never cared about Frank, Carl. It’s because he’s a piece of shit alright? Not cuz he isn’t my fucking father” He elaborates quietly. 

Rationally, he knows Carl’s thoughtless comment was just that. Thoughtless. The kid hadn’t meant it like Ian wasn’t one of them or anything like that, but the insecurity existed in him already and the words had just knocked hard right on his weak spot. 

“I’m your brother just as much as Lip or Liam are, I don’t want you thinking i’m not” Ian finally admits, sinking down on the bed next to the younger boy.

Ian can’t bring himself to look at his brother when he speaks. Carl tends to be blunt about most things and he’s half expecting him to state the fact that he isn’t, but instead his brother throws himself at him. 

He’s more than a little shocked but he manages to return the hug after a couple of seconds and presses a kiss against the dark head buried against his chest. 

“You’ll always be my brother” Carl informs, honest like he always was and Ian finds tears springing up. 

“Thanks buddy” He says, voice choked and entirely failing to hide the tears when the younger boy looks up.

Ian can see Carl looks unsure for a second and chides himself for even crying to his younger sibling. It makes him hurriedly wipe at his face and plaster his best smile instead. 

“Why did you even think to go to Mickey dork?” he asks, curious and trying to distract his brother at the same time. 

“Because he’s your best friend” Carl shrugs easily. 

“Yeah? Says who?” Ian wonders, because it’s not the word he had in mind but it wasn’t like he could tell the kid that. He just wasn’t sure when Carl noticed the two of them at all.

“Mickey” comes the entirely shocking answer as Carl bounds out of his arm and towards the door, having heard the sound of the oven downstairs telling them dinner was finished heating up. 

Ian just sits on his bed, staring dumbstruck at where his brother had disappeared before the biggest shit eating grin begins to stretch itself across his face. 

He was Carl’s brother and could definitely live with being Mickey’s best friend.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this came from, but i'd still appreciate feedback!! xx


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